Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Expansion of Perception

It had been just a single punch. A punch so crude that even a back-alley thug could have thrown it.

Yet, with that one punch, the youngest son of the Marquis Wilhelm’s family fell.

A man across the field shouted when he saw Edonic collapse.

‘A family member, perhaps.’

I thought as I looked at the man shouting his name.

What would happen if I tried to kill Edonic right here?

The thought was brief—almost instinctive—and I immediately acted on it.

I walked, step by step, toward the fallen Edonic. He must have heard my footsteps, yet he made no move to stand.

To be precise, he couldn’t.

It might have looked like a casual strike, but my blow carried the essence of the Martial God’s principles.

There was no way a mere mana barrier could have absorbed that impact.

Edonic finally opened his mouth.

Still, he couldn’t get up. He merely stared at me, his lips trembling as he begged for his life.

Our eyes met. His were filled with terror—utter conviction that I was about to kill him.

Killing Edonic here would be a foolish move. He was the son of Marquis Wilhelm. Killing him now would only raise the enemy’s morale.

‘And I’d earn Wilhelm’s hatred in the process.’

So instead of killing him, I kicked him hard toward his comrades on the opposite side.

Edonic groaned as he was sent rolling away. I had struck his ribs—pain unbearable for any magician who hadn’t trained his body.

He was lucky to leave with his life, able to return to his allies. That mercy was my doing.

But the tournament wasn’t over yet.

I turned toward where Marquis Wilhelm sat and said,

“Can I take this as my victory?”

Wilhelm glared at me coldly, his face dark with fury, then gave a stiff nod.

“Edonic has been defeated.”

The moment I heard that, I turned back to my place. My task was done. The rest was up to the others.

“Was he truly the son of the Conqueror King?”

It was Duke Kellyburn who spoke to me then. His eyes gleamed oddly, as though expecting something.

“Is there a problem?”

“I’m just confirming the truth. You really are the son of King Zeke Fritz?”

“I have never spoken a lie.”

Kellyburn nodded, a faintly satisfied smile lingering on his lips.

“The Withers Frontier Count finally did something right. You have my thanks.”

“The territory war isn’t over yet.”

“It might as well be. You’ll see soon enough.”

Kellyburn gestured forward with his chin, telling me to watch. But despite his confidence, the results were not in his favor.

The second match began—Ryan stepped forth. As a skilled swordsman, he dodged spells with nimble movements.

From his cautious approach, he seemed to be waiting for the magician to run out of mana.

But the magician’s mana reserves were far beyond expectation. Eventually, Ryan’s stamina gave out first, and he was forced to surrender.

In the third match, one of Kellyburn’s hired mercenaries stepped up—only to surrender immediately.

He was a commoner, and commoners were forbidden from harming nobles. Kellyburn didn’t scold him—perhaps he understood the man’s position.

Soon, Marquis Wilhelm’s side had two victories. One more win, and they would secure the territorial war.

Then came the fourth match—where something unexpected began.

The one to step forward was Duke Kellyburn himself. He quietly looked at his opponent before suggesting,

“…You may surrender.”

The opponent accepted without hesitation. It was shocking. Though there were class distinctions among nobles, I hadn’t expected one to yield so easily.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be fine?”

Kellyburn said to me, his face bright with confidence. I nodded, acknowledging his words.

Now, only one final battle remained.

When Mikelan stepped forward as our last representative—and a man appeared on the opposing side—

A powerful surge of spirit pressure erupted from both of them, and my eyes widened.

‘Is that truly an aura that a human can possess?’

I had heard that Mikelan was the Duke’s personal bodyguard—and even the captain of his guard—so I expected him to be strong.

But the energy emanating from him now far exceeded anything I had imagined.

‘More shocking, though, is the man facing him. Who in the world is he?’

The man standing across from Mikelan didn’t seem to be one of Wilhelm’s children. The weapon he held wasn’t a staff—it was a sword.

‘So, either a mercenary Wilhelm hired, or his personal guard.’

Whoever he was, he was formidable. Even Wilhelm’s killing intent had made me shiver before—but this was beyond that.

As the two faced each other, arcs of lightning began to flash between them—their mana colliding, creating sparks.

That wasn’t all. Before long, the very ground around them began to split, like cracks spreading through glass.

The earth fractured, overturned, and rumbled as their power grew to its peak—

Mikelan and the man’s swords met.

I hadn’t even seen them move. Their speed had surpassed my vision.

I heightened my sight, focusing my perception to catch their movements. Watching such masters fight was an invaluable lesson.

Fortunately, with my enhanced vision, their movements became faintly visible.

And I couldn’t help but let out an admiring breath.

Unlike in the martial world, this realm’s combat techniques weren’t as systematized—or so I had believed.

After all, compared to the martial world, this land’s understanding of the human body, swordsmanship, and inner principles was shallow.

So it was natural for me to think that way.

But at that moment, I realized I had been completely wrong.

‘Golden Snare Hand, Fist Principles, Palm Techniques, Footwork, and Swordsmanship!’

None of them fell short of the martial arts of my world.

‘But this world’s Golden Snare Hand and Fist Techniques aren’t even fully developed yet. How are they using them like that?’

I looked even more closely—and soon, I understood.

‘That’s not martial arts. To be precise, it’s not a technique learned from another person.’

The techniques Mikelan and the man occasionally displayed during their fight resembled those of the martial world. However, after sensing the depth within them, I realized something different.

‘They must have developed those techniques themselves through real combat experience.’

At some point, Mikelan must have realized that when fighting an enemy up close, one’s hands could be more useful than one’s sword.

That was why he instinctively used the Golden Snare Hand and Fist Principles.

Still, what they truly specialized in was the sword. Inevitably, their understanding of other arts was rough and unrefined.

Kwaaang—! Kwaaaaang—!!

The clash between Mikelan and the man was ferocious—so much so that even their allies had to retreat far back.

They had moved nearly a hundred paces away from where the fight began before the shockwaves finally subsided.

Each time they collided, explosions and surges of energy erupted. It was a terrifying sight to most—but I watched the duel with excitement on my face.

‘Diagonal slash, deflect and flow, low kick… ah, that was a feint. They’ve both mastered the art of reading and countering each other’s moves.’

Mikelan’s techniques were especially impressive. He always moved half a beat slower than his opponent—yet he consistently caught up and even overtook the man’s attacks.

That kind of skill was impossible without fully grasping one’s opponent.

As expected, the tide soon shifted in Mikelan’s favor.

He began the fight half a beat slower, barely keeping up. But before long, even when he was a full beat behind, he was both defending and attacking simultaneously.

It meant he had completely read his opponent.

As expected, the fight ended quickly. Mikelan struck the man’s neck and claimed victory.

Blood sprayed from the man’s throat. His body slowly crumpled to the ground, and his severed head rolled after it.

Sweat streamed down Mikelan’s face—it seemed even for him, this battle had been exhausting.

Kellyburn handed Mikelan a white towel. A duke performing what only an attendant would do—it showed how sincerely grateful he was.

Mikelan bowed deeply, humbled, and accepted it. Kellyburn patted his tired shoulder a few times.

Then, turning toward Marquis Wilhelm, Kellyburn said,

“It seems the territorial war has come to an end.”

Wilhelm’s reply came a beat late, his eyes burning with fury. His voice was low and sharp, filled with suppressed anger.

He tapped his chin with his finger—a gesture that might’ve looked like an old nobleman lost in thought.

But I felt danger in that simple movement. My warrior’s bloodline—what allowed me to survive as a fighter—sensed an imminent threat.

Just as I was about to warn Kellyburn—

“You’d best not try it.”

Kellyburn’s voice came low and calm.

“Did you really think I came here with only Mikelan as my guard?”

At once, killing intent erupted all over the meadow. My eyes widened as I looked around.

There was nowhere to hide on this vast plain. Yet, though I could feel countless presences, not a single figure was visible.

‘There are over a dozen of them around me alone… and yet, I can’t see anyone?’

The world truly was vast—there were enemies scattered everywhere, so stealthy I hadn’t even sensed them before.

Marquis Wilhelm’s face twisted into a scowl as he glared at Kellyburn. Clearly, having his scheme exposed irritated him greatly.

“…We’ll let it go this time.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

Wilhelm clicked his tongue at Kellyburn’s shameless composure. Then, climbing into his carriage, he left—without even checking on his subordinates.

The men of House Wilhelm stood there in a daze, staring after the departing carriage.

Only when Kellyburn cleared his throat did they finally come to their senses and start following.

‘Just as I thought—Marquis Wilhelm is a petty man.’

Abandoning those who had fought for him—regardless of victory or defeat—revealed his poor character.

“I must thank you, Prince.”

Kellyburn approached me with a relieved smile, extending his hand. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs NoveIꜰire.net

“Thanks to Your Highness’s help, I did not lose my territory.”

Prince? I tilted my head slightly. But refusing a handshake would have been rude, so I clasped his hand and replied,

“Even without me, you would’ve defended it well enough.”

“…I’m glad you think so highly of my duchy, but I mean it sincerely. Our family has never been gifted in martial arts—compared to the Marquis Wilhelm’s forces, our military strength is weak. Even if Mikelan and I managed to win, the others were a gamble at best. Your victory made all the difference.”

I didn’t know all the details, but Kellyburn’s words sounded truthful.

The look of relief on his face wasn’t something that could be faked.

“By the way, your tone is strange. Weren’t you speaking informally before?”

“How could I speak casually to the son of King Zeke Fritz?”

Once again, I was reminded of just how great Zeke’s reputation was. To think that even the rigid Duke Kellyburn would humble himself .

I accepted his change in attitude. After all, I was Zeke’s son. For a duke, treating me diplomatically was only natural.

“Ah, Your Highness, do you happen to have a moment? If possible, I’d like to offer you a gift.”

“Yes. Haven’t you ever wondered why Marquis Wilhelm was so desperate to claim my land?”

A strange light flashed in my eyes. From what I knew, Wilhelm’s targeted territory was said to be barren. But… was that truly the case?

When I nodded with curiosity—

Kellyburn smiled with a formal expression and gestured for me to come along.